I wrote this for an Expository writing course. The teacher told us to write about how we envision ourselves when we are old. I doubt that I will kill my future husband, in fact I don't plan to marry. This is a pretty angsty, heartfelt essay. Enjoy!

I
am ambivalent towards life. Living by a routine pleases me, but at
the same time, it seems too ordinary. Much too ordinary for someone
living in a prison.

At
times, I even feel appreciative of living a sheltered life. No matter
how badly the others treat me, I can seek refuge in my innermost
thoughts. My mind provides a cool alternative to the heat and
confusion of the jail. Nobody can hurt me here.

My
bones creak and they seem to degenerate into dust as I settle
painfully into bed. My heart aches as much as my bones. However, I
can only blame myself for not exercising when I was a young girl.

As
I lie on the stiff cot, I wait. Soon, I will enter a deep slumber and
the nightmare will arrive – the chapters of my life flashing before
just like every other night. It never fails to haunt me ruthlessly.
Worst of all, every single bit of it is true.

I
had been as normal as your average Jane. In fact, I was so mediocre
that I blended into the newspaper and I was happy that way. My life
revolved around my studies and my true passions – music and books.
Not having much of a social life, I immersed myself in Literature.
From classics like Romeo and Juliet to gothic novels like
Frankenstein, I was mesmerized by the wonderful stories told.

I
also took up the guitar, which could have been my calling, but turned
out to be nothing more than a phase. My childhood and teenage years
were so mundane that I yearned for excitement.

Little
did I know that I was soon about to get my wish.

Unexpectedly,
I did not pursue Literature. Instead, I turned to Biology - it
wasn't that I was particularly fond of it. I realised that
Literature would lead to a dead end for me. I was not good enough to
be a writer and journalism did not seem apt for a non-adventurous
person like me. Science was safe and predictable, I could trust it.

Life
continued on in this manner - it was not turning out the way it was
supposed to be. At that time, a sort of stigma was still attached to
women who remain unmarried.

Expectedly,
I married a high-flying entrepreneur. Admittedly, he meant nothing to
me. He was someone to talk to like a distant friend. It got much
worse. When his company went bankrupt, he turned to alcohol. On lucky
days, I got a few beatings. I once got scalded on the arm by an iron
when he was in a particularly bad mood.

It
occurred to me once or twice to report him to the authorities, but I
faced so much trauma that inflicting more on anyone seemed too evil.
The irony was that I was so weak that I didn't even want to seek
revenge on my perpetrator. I began to wear long-sleeved shirts,
hiding my abrasions. Life was a daze.

Until,
I snapped.

I
was sitting at the table one day, just like normal. " Thud!" The
heavy footsteps of that monster caused me to shiver – as if
heralding my inevitable punishment. The vein on his neck stood out, a
clear indication that it was an off day for him. Rummaging around in
the fruits basket, he picked up an apple. Then he selected a
razor-sharp peeler. I felt his beady-eyed gaze penetrate through me.

His
breath felt hot and moist on my neck, causing my hairs to stand on
their tiptoes. I felt the ice cool blade graze my neck, as if
taunting me. All of a sudden, something came over me. A pinprick of
sadness morphed rapidly into a huge ball of fury. I had nothing left
to lose – for I had had enough of this torture.

For
the first time in my life, I stood up for myself. He was so shocked
that I managed to grab the sharp contraption out of his hands.
Without thinking, I stabbed him in the stomach. Blood spurted out
from the deep wound as he feel onto the floor, severely injured.

At
that moment, I understood how wrong the saying "revenge is sweet"
was. There was not a bone in my body that cackled in malicious glee.
However, I did not feel guilty. The pain I had gone through had
numbed my ability to feel – II was just stunned into silence.

Mechanically,
I called for the ambulance. As I stood amidst the frenzy of activity,
a wave of emotions swept over me. Evil ecstasy, anger, shock,
disbelief and more I couldn't name. But by then, it was too late.

I
would have been given life imprisonment, but the charges were
lessened to a count of manslaughter. I was given thirty years – a
long sentence for someone who had been abused by the victim.

The
last part of my nightmare, surprisingly, flashes to a scene of my
eighth birthday party. Oh, how wonderful it was! That cherubic smile
on my face, the flickering candles that illuminated and softened my
features.

Unbeknownst
to everyone else though, an ominous feeling lurked behind that smile.
I was walking on a tightrope, trying to believe that if I wished hard
enough, the real life that I lived wouldn't show. My parents had
only once celebrated my birthday for me. It was the only happy memory
I can remember. My childhood had been filled with my alcoholic
parents' fighting. I'm surprised they managed to remain sober for
me on that birthday.

It's
time.

As
someone shakes me brusquely, light fills my eyes. I cower slightly at
the sudden brightness that hits me. It seems like another ordinary
day in the prison. Then, I startle, having remembered what day it is.
The day I will be released from prison. No more penal servitude, no
more bland meals.

The
wait is over. After going through the normal procedures, I exchange
my repulsive pinstripe suit for a floral frock. My legs quiver as I
make my way down the long, winding path. I inhale in the fresh air
around me, which seems overpoweringly cloying. Being used to the
musty odour of my prison cell, the scent that enters my nostrils is
unwelcome.

Even
now, I am still bombarded my paranoia – there is a part of me that
wishes to remain confined as I have no idea how people will treat me.

All
of a sudden, a light shower starts. I laugh and swivel around till I
can no longer tell if it is rain or tears on my face.

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